To love and to Hate is to feel humane
by All Over the World girl
Summary: How do you go back to humanity after a hundred years of death? How can you run away from the piercing screams you've heard forever? Love is the only answer, my friend...


**Okay, so…hi! Yes, I deleted my last story. It got lame after a certain point of time, I just couldn't think of anything to write. So instead, I'm posting a completely new Fan Fic and hopefully you guys would enjoy it a bit more than the last one. Tell me what you think, and especially if it is worth continuing! This is just a bit of Elena's thoughts in print, how I think someone like her should feel after just learning that her boyfriend has saved his brother's life yet kind of left her. 3****rd**** season has never existed her, mainly because I don't have cable TV and haven't watched it, waiting like an idiot for the actual DVD to come out. But why do I keep on explaining myself, go ahead and enjoy! Review, please! That would be important and would tell me if this is worth it.**

**Just to warn you – this chapter will be kind of girly, may be a bit offensive and embarrassing to some males, so you've been warned!**

3 days before

Closing the book, Elena sighed. She'd been reading for quite a while now, and it was always the same book – Gone with the Wind. It was the only book in this house that Damon allowed her to touch; apparently, the other ones were too ancient. She joked with him once that maybe he should have just buried it with one of his food resources. Sometimes he joked back, but for the most part, it was always the same; he'd tell her that if he tried to feed on a human again, she'd probably strangle him, or at least never speak to him again, which was worse and also very possible, even though she hoped it wouldn't be that way. But every time she thought of him feeding, it was on a woman that was below him, moaning in pleasure as he gave her the who-knows-which orgasm. She kept on telling herself that she was mad, because she ended up having to clean the sheets more than not, but somehow she knew she was lying to herself. She hadn't truly seen him with another woman, yet she was quite a dreamer, even if it included negative creations on her part. Whenever she imagined another woman next to him, she tried to quickly ignore the idea of it, forcing herself to feel ashamed for even thinking of it. But honestly, what could an 18 year old do with her free time, when her closest path to pleasure was imagining the man you live with naked while under the shower? Sure, she was quite sure that that man would love to complete her wildest dreams in bed, yet she was quite aware that, if she ever managed to get her hands on him, they wouldn't reach the bed. Also, let's not forget the fact that she was annoyingly afraid of that unheard of before, but definitely not bad feeling she had when thinking of the elder Salvatore. Still, he was off limits.

So fuck it, she was frustrated. Sexually frustrated, to be exact. She hadn't had sex in who knows how long, and the last time she'd done it was with Stefan, who thought of sex as something that should be handled slowly and carefully. The term "making love" fit more, because to her sex was a term for more of an animal act between two people who'd love to give each other pleasure rather than a man on top of a woman, kissing her and telling her he loves her, while barely moving and already going over the edge, while the woman herself was still waiting for the promised pleasure to actually come. And just as it swung by, the man on top of her would scream like a teenager and be done, then roll off of her and tell her what a great fuck she was. Well, Stefan's words were a bit gentler than that, but she wished they weren't. She had already given up on her wildest dream with Stefan, but she hadn't completely given up the idea of a bed shaking and a sore twinkie after a wild night. Wait, brain freeze. That would probably hurt, but there would always be the memory of that earth-shaking feeling that went beyond pleasure. Yet, while thinking of that herself, Elena couldn't really imagine that such a feeling existed. Was there truly something beyond the orgasms she'd experienced? Has she truly experienced an orgasm, or was it just a fake hope of her desperate self? To be honest, she probably shouldn't be sharing those things with anybody. She decided to keep them to herself. She wouldn't say another word…

Yet how can a man cum so fast and get it over with when a woman couldn't? Why is the man such a lucky human-fucking-being, what with getting no bloody sheets and no pre-menstrual cramps, or not having to experience the "joy" that a woman feels when the baby kicks, when silently cursing the stupid thing for moving at the back of her head, even though not many women actually realize that. To them, a pregnancy goes like this: you learn you're expecting, you squeal in joy and never once do you actually think of the mind-blowing pain that would come during the birth, or of your mood and food swings and of course, the throw-ups. Elena herself had never been pregnant, but more than once, her period had made her feel like she's swallowed a rotten watermelon and couldn't pull it out and throw it in the thrash where it originally belonged.

Why talk of periods, though? Why waste your breath on something that most immature males under a certain age would go gross on, when you've got one of those immature, yet extremely sexy, giving-you-orgasms-by-looking-at-you males in the other room? Yes, she can see him now. He's spread out on the couch, his feet in those perfectly arousing shoes. The shoes – they're on the table. Why are they on that table? Has he got no manners? Damn it, he's hot…those fucking shoes! Get off the fucking shoes off the fucking table! DAMN IT!

Okay, she's fine now. He just makes her a bit nervous. As she thinks of that, he takes off his shoes and fuck! someone help her, they don't stink! How do they not stink? Is it even physically possible for a man to take off his shoes and not have them smell? Obviously, the average man washes his feet carefully about once in a blue moon, so how do they smell so good? Wait, scratch that, it's gross. But they do! Damn it.

He's taking his socks off now, to reveal…no nails! Another surprise and completely impossible to any man had he not been Damon Salvatore! Most men, when examining their toes would see one foot long things and are proud of them. Later, people wonder why males have more problems with feet than women. To be honest, the things some women put on their feet makes Elena's eyes go POP! But she isn't one of those women. She doesn't spray-paint her nails and then wonder why suddenly, out of the blue, her foot has become, well…blue. Honestly what color do they expect? Orange?

He's back on the couch now. His breaths are even, and she's about 96.79 percent sure that he can hear her. The other 3.21 percent are left there to protect her pride and ninja skills, which are practically nonexistent…but don't tell her I said that! Okay? We have a deal.

He's breathing again, his stomach going up and down unevenly, and Elena can't help but think that the only reason a man is to be breathing like that is when he's, well… aroused. She's about to leave when suddenly his mouth opens, to reveal those worth getting your lip sucked on 'till it's blue teeth, and says:

"Aren't you going to join me, honey, or are you going to stare again and curse my ruining your perfect table?"

New rule to her notebook, which is already filled:

Rule a; learn how to be a ninja better.

Rule b; don't be so sure of yourself. Scratch that: never be sure of yourself when that sucking vamp is near you.

Rule c; next time he decides to joke about that table, put vervain on it. Honestly, that man doesn't know how much hard work is to be put into polishing a hundred-year-old about-to-fall-on-top-of-you table!

She clears her throat. She won't be nervous, not in front of him! Damn it, she's shaking now! Now what? Oh, someone help her! Please!

**I know it's short, but please review to tell me if it's worth continuing. :) **


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